


Astraphobia

by insight_ful



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fear, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Humanstuck, Light Angst, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 19:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11447664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insight_ful/pseuds/insight_ful
Summary: You have always hated storms. They terrify you, and over the years your fears have simply worsened. Severe weather at school is arguably worse than at home, but sometimes someone will pity you enough to comfort you. And other times they will sweet talk a teacher into letting you to go into a bathroom during the severe weather drill so you can cry.





	Astraphobia

Storms have always been, and will continue to be your least favorite thing. Ever since you were little you haven't been able to stand storms. You always either plug your ears and hope for the best, or blast music so loud that you can't hear anything that goes on around you. Sometimes you will even find that you talk to yourself during storms as distraction. It's worked pretty well so far, but this time seems to be a little bit different.

School storm drills were always your worst enemy. You're not allowed to get out your phone to distract yourself, not allowed to talk. It was like they were forcing you to sit against the wall with your entire life balancing on the pin needle that is your sanity. You've always hated it.

Luckily though, most of the storm drills are just drills. Not actually warnings about serious weather. You've been able to hold yourself together pretty well through all of them. The only thing that really made you uncomfortable about it was the idea of a storm bad enough to need to stop classes and sit out in a windowless hallway.

But on this terrible day, nearing the last day of your senior year, there is a real storm drill. The first real one that you've had since freshman year.

Your first three classes went by smoothly. You hardly paid attention, sleeping through pre-calculus and Economics like usual, and you felt as if the day was going by faster than normal. Until during English, your fourth period class, when one of the secretaries from the central office came over the loudspeaker.

"Students and staff, please excuse this interruption," were the only words you needed to hear to know what was going to happen.

It had started raining during your previous class, Bio II, and you'd heard some students talking about how their parents said it might storm. You being your skeptical self didn't think it actually would, but unfortunately it did.

As your classroom trailed out the door and down the hall, teacher following behind with the class roster, you began to panic. You hadn't known it was going to storm, and that worried you. You had no idea what kind of storm it was, or how long it was predicted to last, or even how fast the wind was. You always worried about the things you didn't know when it came to the weather, but this just felt like the end of the world altogether.

The hallway felt as if it would go on forever as you got lost in your thoughts, your mind spinning with all of the ways the day could go wrong and lead to your death.

Soon enough though, the line of students in front of you started sliding down the wall one by one, each having a seat on the floor to wait out the storm. Or as you saw it, they were waiting for their inevitable death.

As your back slid down the wall it dawned on you that the school only had storm drills for severe weather, and that only worsened your fears. You could feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over already.

You didn't think that they actually would until you heard a clap of thunder, feeling it reverberate through the wall against your back. You slapped a hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut as they overflowed and tears streaked down either side of your face. You could already feel eyes on you, judging you for being afraid of something as simple as a storm. You knew how stupid it was. Even as you trembled on the floor you knew that you probably came across as childish and weak, but you couldn't help it.

Storms brought back memories that you didn't want, but you found incredibly hard to block out regardless of how strong they came on.

Imaginary memories, really. Ones where you're on a small boat in the ocean, a wave coming over your boat and taking you and all of your friends down into the deep blue. Flipping the boat over and leaving you for dead, never to be seen again.

A gentle hand being placed on your bicep scared you out of your impending thoughts, your eyes snapping to see who was touching. Looking to your right, you see Kankri.

Really, you don't talk to Kankri all that much anymore. After your freshman year the two of you fell apart and sort of lost touch. You're sure he heard plenty about you in the passing years though. Like the time you got suspended for having cigarettes in the building, or when your dad died.

Your dad dying is probably the main reason that he seems to be taking pity on you currently.

Your father died just last year, over the summer break between sophomore and junior year. He was out fishing with friends from work when he got stuck in a storm. Their little boat hardly stood a chance. They have yet to find his body, but they confirmed his death a week after finding the overturned boat.

That only worsened your fear of storms significantly. Even if you'd never been that close with your dad, it was still a terrible experience.

Your mother had never been around, and you had no family that you knew of alive either. You were an emancipated minor up until your eighteenth birthday three months ago. You supported yourself and your little brother with the money you made at the local record store and what had been left for you by your dad. Thank god he was a wealthy man, or you and your brother would have ended up as foster children.

The hand that Kankri placed on your arm was enough to help ground you at least a little. You were not in your father's position at sea. You were on land in the middle of a strong concrete hallway.

His hand squeezed at your bicep lightly, and when you met his eyes you saw nothing but pity in them. It hurt to know that was how he felt, but you couldn't find it in yourself to get upset about it at the moment.

He was offering you help, and you were going to take it. You can't suppress the small sob that escapes you, nor can you help but furrow your brows when Kankri stands, his hand leaving your arm as he approached the nearest teacher. You can't hear their whispered words, but within a short few seconds the Vantas approaches you again and grabs your wrist, pulling you up with all his might. You allow him to, standing and following behind him as he pulls you into the bathroom located at the end of the hall. He closes the door behind you, not giving it the chance to swing shut on it's own.

Within seconds, he is stood in front of you, hands on your biceps. He speaks, rambling on about how it's okay to be afraid, but you tune all of it out. You step towards him, snaking your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his shoulder. Without much warning aside from that, you begin to sob, tears soaking into one of his many sweaters.

It's clear that he is uncomfortable when you first latch onto him, but after you begin to sob he grows a bit more open to the idea of you hanging onto him. His own arms slowly wrap around you, a hand coming up to the back of your head. His fingers comb through your hair as he shooshes you, trying to calm you and get you through the storm.

You have a strong grip on the back of his sweater, both hands balled into fists against his back.

Kankri allows you to hold onto him like your life depends on it, not bothered when you jump at every clap of thunder or whimper when you can hear the rain coming down hard on the roof above. Kankri is just ever present, holding onto you and trying to help you through the storm.

You love him for that.

Even if the two of you had a falling out a few years back and haven't really talked since, you feel the same about him. He's a good guy, always trying to do what he thinks is best. He used to defend you when others would put you down, and even let you use him as an outlet to vent.

Now you aren't so sure how he acts or what he does, but you still love him. Maybe not real, romantic love, but god do you love just how gentle his fingers are as they comb through your hair, or how much his sweater smells like cinnamon and apples. You don't know why you let your conversations die out and the time you spent together cease to exist.

By the time the secretary comes back over the loudspeaker, you're no longer sobbing. You're still a trembling mess, but it isn't nearly as bad.

Kankri pats your back lightly, speaking.

“Cronus,” his voice is soft, “It’s still storming but it isn't quite as bad. Do you think that you will be okay to go back to class, or should I help you to the guidance office?”

It breaks your heart to hear that. He probably wants to leave and get back to class himself, but you don't want him to. You tighten your grip on his sweater, hoping that will be enough to show him.

Apparently it is, because he just sighs in response and stays put. He probably expected this sort of thing from you. Not that you can help it. You have an irrational fear that you can't conquer, and it's still flaring up. You can still hear thunder, though it's much more faint, and you still feel uneasy about it.

You revel in the fact that his fingers still linger in your hair, allowing that to distract you from the weather outside. Slowly, you compose yourself. You stop crying, slowly pulling away from Kankri and swiping at your eyes with the heels of your hands. He stands before you with a flat expression, though when you offer him a smile he does present you with a smaller one of his own. At least that means he cares a little bit.

“You know what would make me feel a lot better?” You ask between sniffles, trying not to let snot slide out of your nose. That would just be gross.

“What?” Kankri decides to humor you, a brow raised as his arms come up and cross on his chest.

“A kiss from my knight in shining armor,” your smile grows, becoming more of a smirk than anything. And while yours grows, Kankri’s falls.

“No,” he shakes his head, “Let's get back to class, Cronus.”

You pout a bit, but you know that he won't give in so easily. You sigh, nodding, “Alright.”

Thunder once again shakes the building, prompting you to suck in a breath and grab Kankri’s wrist reflexively. He looks down at your hand when it grabs him, slowly lifting his arm off of his chest and between the two of you. “Sorry,” you give him a sheepish smile with your apology, which he just brushes off.

As soon as you release him though, he brings a hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips to three of his fingers. He then proceeds to press those fingers to your cheek-- an action that practically has you melting.

“Now you aren't allowed to touch me for the rest of the day, Cronus. Keep in mind that I do have boundaries just like everyone else,” he reminds you as he pulls the door open, stepping out of the bathroom and into the hall.

“Oh that won't be a problem, boss,” you smile to yourself as you follow after him, a hands slowly sliding into the pockets of your jeans. You can't remember the last time you were this happy during a storm.


End file.
